Throwback Thursday with Dellani's Tea Time from February 8, 2010

This show was a wonderful one, set up by a buddy of mine, Devyn Burton. I had invited him to be a guest, but instead, since he isn't a writer, he set me up with four fantastic authors. At the time, I had no idea how fabulously famous these ladies were. It's just as well, because I would probably have stumbled all over myself.

My guests were Ellen Hopkins, author of the novels “Crank”, “Glass” and “Fallout”. Lisa Mantchev, author of “Eyes Like Stars”. Michelle Zink, author of “Prophecy of the Sisters”.Tonya Hurley, author of “Ghostgirl” and “Homecoming”.

As always, we had a fantastic time. I really enjoyed this show and I hope you will too!

PODCAST

First Meetings - It Takes a Thief

I am a big fan of first meetings, or the Meet Cute as they are called in romantic comedies. These often set the tone for the relationship, and tell us a lot about how the couple will interact with one another later in the story.

Jason Banes is a thief, however, he's found himself on the wrong end of a murder charge. He admits to the accompanying theft, but maintains his innocence in the multiple murders he's charged with. When compelling evidence comes out that he's telling the truth, he's released into FBI custody in order to help them find the person who is ultimately responsible, the elusive Orchid. Unfortunately, Special Agent in Charge Taylor Driscole, doesn't seem very happy to meet him.

The woman was medium height with an athletic build. Her hair was an average shade of light brown, worn in a sloppy bun as if she couldn't be bothered to style it. Her eyes were a common shade of blue, her complexion and looks attractive, but not impressive. She carried herself like a professional and her silvery gray suit coat bulged slightly under her left arm. She wore loose fitting, low riding pants that matched the jacket. Her shirt was stark white. She wore a tie; narrow, silk, gunmetal gray. Her makeup was minimal, severe. She had dark sunglasses perched on her head.

Putting the glasses to her teeth, she bit on the end a moment before speaking. "So, this is him, huh?" She looked at Jason like she was inspecting disappointing livestock.

"Jason Banes," he said, stepping forward with his hand extended through the bars.

The men flanked the woman putting themselves in front of her like a wall.

"Cool it, guys. He can't hurt me from in there." She stepped forward, extending her hand.

Her nails were short, unpolished, well manicured. Her grip was strong, her fingers and palms calloused. Jason got the impression that she could kick his ass too. He took her hand, meeting the intensity of her grasp with equal pounds per square inch. His disarming smile flashed, making no impression whatever on the young woman.

"And you are?"

"Special Agent in Charge, Taylor Driscole."

"You're Agent Driscole?" He grinned, still holding her hand. The other hand went immediately to his head. Long fingers brushed his curly hair out of his face. "I was expecting a chap. Nice to meet you."

"This isn't a social visit, Mr. Banes."

"Jason," he corrected automatically.

"Mr. Banes," she said firmly. "You're to be released in my custody. The men and I will escort you to a secure location. They're setting up surveillance and checking security now."

"All right. How soon do we leave?"

"I've got a few more papers to sign, then you're officially my headache."

"I won't be one, I promise. I'm house broken and I do know how to treat a lady."

He wasn't really trying to flirt, but Special Agent Driscole seemed to think he was overly familiar. She snatched back her hand, glaring at him.

"Get him ready," she told the men with her. "Move into position," she said to the cuff of her jacket.

"Yes, ma'am," her entourage replied in chorus.

Driscole strode to the door, slapping it with her palm, knocking it aside angrily.

"What's biting her?" Jason asked the men quietly.

The meat shield shrugged, exchanging a knowing look. Jason wasn't sure, but he had the uneasy feeling they might be laughing at Driscole, him or both.

He was cuffed, with his wrists in front of him, and escorted to the elevator. Driscole was nowhere to be seen, but she and more security men were waiting in the parking garage. Jason was led off the elevator, surrounded by a walking wall of muscle. He'd never seen so many big, well armed men in his life. Each man had a weapon in his hand. They all looked around carefully, checking for unknown menace. Jason didn't know whether to feel very safe or very, very afraid.

Two black SUV's were waiting a few feet away. He was taken to a vehicle and put inside. He was flanked by two members of the meat shield. Agent Driscole climbed up front and the rest of the team got in the second vehicle. She contacted the other driver and they took off.

"Why is it you lot like black?" he asked the agents.

"What?" the man on his left asked.

"Black," Jason replied airily. "Could we be anymore obvious? Do you chaps buy every black SUV in America?"

The man on the left looked puzzled, the man on the right and the driver chuckled. Driscole stared straight ahead. Jason shrugged. He wiggled around trying to get comfortable, but his companions took up most of the seat. He was more of a wiry build himself, but he had very broad shoulders. Feeling slightly claustrophobic, he wiggled some more.

Mr. Left gave him an evil eye. Mr. Right eased slightly toward the door, angling his shoulders so the each had a little more room.

"Thanks," Jason murmured, smiling a little.

The man said nothing, but nodded and a smile flickered for a second and was gone.

"May I ask where we're going?" Jason directed at the group.

No one said anything. Driscole shifted in her seat, ignoring him.

"Oi," Jason said rather more loudly. "I know I'm a criminal, but I think I've got a right to know if I'm going to be safe. Might I point out, that you need me—rather a lot?"

Driscole glared at him over her shoulder. Firming her lips, she inhaled slowly. "Look, Mr. Banes. I'm not here to be your friend. I'm here to protect you. The less you know about our destination the better."

"What? Am I going to yell out the windows and give it away? Who am I gonna tell, Special Agent in Charge Taylor Driscole? Eh? And while we're having this lively repartee, perhaps you could ask one of the kind gentlemen to undo the handcuffs? I assure you, I'm not inclined to go anywhere. Besides, they'd break me in two before I even got to a door or disabled the driver—not that I know how to do that in any case. I'm a thief, not an assassin."

© 2016 Dellani Oakes

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Throwback Thursday with Dellani's Tea Time from December 13, 2010

This time, my show was a little different. Instead of authors who write children's books, I interviewed authors who write non-fiction books. First we spoke with Dr. Barbara Becker Holstein. She is the author of The Enchanted Self, A Positive Therapy; The Truth (I'm a girl, I'm smart and I know everything); and Secrets: you tell me yours and I'll tell you mine...maybe!
My second guest was Jay Fitter, author of "Respect Your Children - A Practical Guide for Effective Parenting"
The third guest was my dear friend, Jon Magee. Jon is another of our Red River Radio co-hosts. He's the author of "From Barren Rocks to Living Stones" as well as "Paradise Island, Heavenly Journey".

PODCAST

The Meet Cute from Crime Makes an Entrance

The movies call first meetings, in romantic comedies, the Meet Cute. I think that's a stupid term and didn't even know what it was, until I heard it mentioned in some program and had to go look it up. Even if I'm not a fan of the Meet Cute term, I am a big fan of first meetings. These often set the tone for the relationship, though not always. One such meeting springs to mind, from my (as yet unpublished) novel, Crime Makes an Entrance.

In this novel, I was trying something different. I saw so many romance novels that started with the two main characters hating one another, I thought I'd give it a try. I couldn't sustain it, mostly because the characters wanted to be together. Yes, there were still misunderstandings and arguments, but they genuinely wanted to be together and not fight. I thought that their first meeting was really fun, though, despite the fact that it doesn't go well.

Dino chuckled, enjoying Deacon's frustration too much. "I guess it's fine to tell you now. I was able to get Hillary K. Du Champs."

The name was not unknown to Deacon, he had heard it often enough in theater circles up north.

"Hillary Du Champs? Sounds like a little, old French lady with a bad accent."

Deacon went on in some detail watching Dino's smile suddenly fade. Turning around, he saw a petite, auburn haired woman glaring up at him. She held three or four large bags which she dropped almost on Deacon's feet.

Dino's smile was artificial, his tan turned a few shades lighter. "Deacon Stewart, I'd like to introduce you to our lighting designer," he gulped. "Hillary Du Champs."

Deacon held out his hand, taking his cap off his head. "Pleased to meet you, Ms. Du Champs."

She glared at him and didn't take his proffered hand. "Don't mind me," she said with a strong Australian accent, "I'm just a little, old French lady with a bad accent!"

Deacon sighed, realizing he had put his foot in deeply this time. As penance, he picked up three of the bags, Ms. Du Champs snatched the smallest off the floor before he could touch it.

"Who's the flunky?" she directed impolitely at Dino.

She walked ahead of Deacon, beside Dino who shortened his stride to compensate for her lack of stature. She couldn't be much over five feet tall, Deacon thought. He'd never gotten along well with little women. They tended to be bossy and arrogant, with something to prove.

Deacon was around six foot three and lanky of build. His dark blond hair was curly, unruly and a constant source of aggravation to him. His blue eyes were rimmed with dark eyelashes, giving him a sleepy look. In high school, he'd been mistakenly accused of being stoned more often than he could count.

In an act of defiance of his military foster father, he'd gotten plugs in his ears and an eyebrow pierced. Several tattoos decorated his arms and another on his right buttock, a challenge from a college friend one night when they were too drunk to give a shit. He was sure he presented a bedraggled figure to the compact, attractive and well groomed woman ahead of him. Not quite the picture of a well qualified professional man.

He noted absently that she had a great figure and a nice, tight ass, which distracted him so much, he nearly ran into the door jam as the automatic door slid open. He set the bags down as they waited for the elevator and looked down at Hillary.

"I'm sorry about what I said. I didn't realize you were there."

"And that makes it all right to insult me, as I can't hear you? You're an uneducated buffoon, Mr. Whatever. I hope to have as little contact with you as possible. So just do your job, tote the bags and don't talk to me!"

Deacon's temper nearly got the better of him, but the elevator arrived giving them a few moments of struggle as they pulled her bags on board and hit the button for the parking garage.

Getting to the car, Dino opened the back and Deacon loaded the bags into the luggage space. He tried to open the door for Ms. Du Champs, but she walked pointedly away from him. He slid in the front seat himself, shutting the door in her face.

"Now see here," she reprimanded him. "Since when does the flunky sit in the front seat and the professional woman sit in the back seat with the cooler?"

Deacon rolled his eyes in her direction, giving her a scathing look before lowering the brim of his cap over his eyes, resuming his relaxed travel position. "Since the flunky is the technical director of the theater and the professional woman is being a snooty bitch." He said firmly, fastening his seat belt with an abrupt snap.

Dino started the car and took off in his usual cavalier style. Ms. Du Champs was silent for some time, just trying to stay in an upright position while Dino drove down the ramps at forty miles an hour. He cut into the outgoing traffic and sped into the night, zipping in and out of traffic seemingly at random.

"Really, Dino, do you have to drive so carelessly?" She was griping at him now, leaving Deacon off the hook for the time being.

"It's better when you don't look," Deacon murmured, sliding lower into the seat.

Fortunately, they get over their snit and develop a tightly bonded relationship. I have to admit, I really like this pair. They have some spark and fire to them that some of the other couples don't have. I haven't gotten this story out yet, but I will one day. Yes, I keep saying that.... But yes, it will happen! I promise!

© 2016 Dellani Oakes

 

Red River Radio Presents What's Write for Me with Clayton, Kenneth and Maggie

What's Write for Me Wednesday, March 23 at 4:00 PM EDT (3 CDT, 2 MDT, 1 PDT)

Authors helping authors, that's what the Write Room Blog is all about. Coordinated by Kenneth Weene and Clayton Bye, this phenomenal blog hosts authors from all walks of life and all points of the globe. Joining us on the show are Kenneth Weene, author of Kenneth Weene is the author of Broody New Englander, Sweet and Sour, Songs for my Father and more. Also on the show, Clayton Bye is the author of The Sorcerer's Key, Behind the Red Door,The Speed of Dark and more. And giving us an international flair, Maggie Tideswell is the author of Dark Moon, Silent Night, Runaway Couple and more.

Throwback Thursday with Dellani's Tea Time from August 9, 2010

On this show, my guests were Tracy Searight-Dibert author of The Detective Pancake, author/ poet/ playwright, R. Jeffreys and Penny Ehrenkranz, author of Ghost for Rent.

PODCAST

Sexy Without the Sex - Love Rocks

Rena Taylor has had a crush on Johnny Caesar since grade school. Three years older, he seemed to grown up and mature. Her best friend's brother, she grew up with him and has recently found out that he loves her too. Now that she's almost 18, Johnny decides she's old enough to date and has asked her to go to the beach with him. The lifeguard, Randy, is a boy that Rena knows from school. He's good looking and thinks highly of himself. He comes over to talk to them before going back to his post.

The lifeguard walked back to his chair, sat down, and started scanning the ocean. About thirty minutes later, the women started to show up and flock around his tower. It was rather disgusting to watch them throw themselves at him. Knowing Randy, he would enjoy the attention, then choose one lucky lady to go home with him. I must have made some noise expressing my disapproval, because Johnny looked over at me.

"What's up?"

I didn't say anything, just gestured vaguely toward Randy and his harem. Johnny chuckled, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Think I could coax them to look at me instead?"

"You can't be serious."

"You don't think I'm good looking enough to do it?" Jonny voiced it like a challenge, but I think I hurt his feelings.

"I think you're gorgeous, but he's a lifeguard after all."

"True. That does add points in his favor. I bet you lunch I can get them to look."

"Johnny, he has six girls over there. This I have to see."

"Watch the master." He winked at me as he rose from his chair.

Johnny moves like a big cat, sinuously smooth. He's got the body of a god and the good looks of a movie star. That isn't just my biased opinion, that's the truth. He grabbed his skim board and ran down the beach, turning to wave and smile as he approached the water.

He rode the skim board along the edge of the water, flipping and spinning; the board an extension of his legs. I was fascinated by his performance. I'd no idea he rode that well. Without being obvious, I glanced at the girls. A couple of them were looking, but not paying full attention. He rode awhile longer, then purposely flipped off the board, landing feet first in the water, facing them. His hair was plastered to his head, blond tendrils cascading down his back and shoulders, weaving patterns across his face. Ignoring them completely, he dove into the water, swam out a few yards, did a flip, and swam back toward the shore. Three of the girls were watching now, giving nearly their full attention.

Johnny stood thigh deep in the water, his shorts riding low on his hips, clinging to his body like a thin, yellow glove. His abs rippled invitingly as he swung his hair out of his eyes, leaving a shimmering trail of water. Stretching like a cat, he leaned back, running his fingers down his abs, shoving the shorts lower, revealing a tuft of golden blond hair. The dragon's head was visible, the body drifting below the level of those low riding shorts.

By that time, all the girls were looking at him. Randy stared, his jaw dropped nearly to his chest. I watched the show, drooling into the sand. Johnny loped up the beach, bent over to take the cord from the skim board off his ankle. He gave the girls a great view of his ass. Laughing softly, he leaned over to kiss me.

"So, how many are still looking?" His blue eyes twinkled as he flopped down on his chair.

"All of them," I replied tersely. "You win." I smiled, suppressing a giggle. "That was the best show ever! How did you think of that?"

He shrugged and I watched his tattoos do a dance. "I read it in a book once. I wanted to see if it would work."

"It worked," I blushed as I admitted. "It got my interest."

"Good," he kissed me again, giving me an wicked grin. "That was part of the point."

"Johnny, you're positively evil!"

"Yes, I am. And you owe me lunch."

© 2016 Dellani Oakes

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Red River Writers Dellani's Tea Time with Chuck, Kristin and Suzette

Dellani's Tea Time Presents!

TODAY, Dellani and Christina welcome back three spectacular authors. CW Lovatt – Adventures of Charlie Smithers, Josiah Stubb & Wild Wolf's Twisted Tales, Kristin Holt – Second Hand Bride, Bride Lottery, Mail Order Bride and Suzette Vaughn – Badeux Knights, Badeaux Daze, Mortals, Gods and a Muse, and more!

Join us live at 4:00 Eastern Daylight Time on Blog Talk Radio for Dellani's Tea Time.

Throwback Thursday with Dellani's Tea Time

This goes back to one of my earliest shows. Prior to this, I was acting as assistant for April Robins (and not doing it very well, I might add - Though April was fantastic). I was asked to take a spot left open by another host and Dellani's Tea Time was born!

This show's guests were the fabulous and lovely Jo Linsdell and the wonderful and charming Robert O'Mara. Enjoy!

PODCAST

Sexy Without the Sex - The Great Mandrake

Drake Mann is a college student, single father and standup comic who blends his act with magic tricks. Calling himself the Great Mandrake, he works at a small comedy club. His nephew, Davy, is a special needs child who is very challenging and it's hard for Drake's sister to cope with him. Since she and her husband are out of the country, Drake is watching Davy for them. He develops a relationship with Davy's teacher, Amalica Capo.

"You promised to tell me about your bad boy days," she said, changing the subject abruptly.

"No, I didn't. I told you that if we were alone, there were other things I'd rather be doing then tell you how bad I've been. I still hold to that."

"Me too," she sighed. "I can't—Not yet.... But—oh, dammit, Drake. Would you kiss me?"

He laughed, taking her hand and she led him to the living room. It was comfortable and homey with a large couch covered in pink cabbage roses. They sat on it together. Amalia was stiff and nervous, unsure how to proceed. Drake scooted closer, brushing her hair over her shoulder.

His lips brushed hers once, twice, before he kissed he, lingering lightly on hers after the first kiss. She tasted like coffee and vanilla. Her perfume made him dizzy, wrapping around him like a floral cloud. It smelled like sex and seduction, tingling his nostrils, making it hard for him to think. He kissed her again, more powerfully, deeply, longingly. She met his intensity, holding him close as he kissed her cheeks and neck. Drake wanted to touch her all over, but he controlled himself, focusing instead, on his kisses. His mouth was hot on her skin, burning with passion as he continued his erotic journey.

Amalia shivered with delight. A little squeak of pleasure passed her lips as he nibbled on her earlobe. Taking his face in her hands, she brought his mouth back to hers. Throwing away caution, she kissed him deeply, making him groan. She knew he wanted her. She wanted him too. But not like this, not tonight. She couldn't do that again. Not after the last time ended so badly. That time, she had given in to the passion, let it sweep her away, and ended up with her heart trampled.

Drake was gradually losing control. It had been too long since he'd been with a woman. Amalia did things that made him completely insane. He didn't know how much longer he'd behave himself. It was all he could do not to snatch her clothing off and plunge deeply into her until he possessed her completely.

"Molly, please...." He gasped as he ran his hands over her body. "Please...." It was almost a howl.

"No. No, I can't yet."

"Please?" he wasn't too proud to beg. He knew he was making a fool of himself, but he couldn't help it.

"No!" She tensed to slap him.

Drake sensed her fear and stopped. "I'm sorry," he said, moving to the other side of the couch. "I'm so sorry."

"Me too. It's my fault."

He laughed casually, running his hands through his hair. "No, it's not. Just shoot me in the balls."

Amalia giggled, bopping him with a pillow. "I don't think you'd like that much."

© 2016 Dellani Oakes

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Sexy Without the Sex - Evening Rose 2

Rose and JD find themselves deeply attracted to one another. Unfortunately, Rose is the caregiver for her great-grandmother, a lovely old lady who is falling prey to the ravages of dementia, which has changed her personality dramatically. Now somewhat officious and demanding, she occupies much of Rose's time. Even so, the young couple manages to find a few stolen minutes together.

Sighing dramatically, Rose flung herself on the couch, landing with her head propped on the arm.

"Must you be so damn practical?"

"Unfortunately." He loomed over her, lips a mere breath from her chest. "Intending to stay like that long?"

"Why? Pointless, really."

She struggled to sit up, but JD kept her body pinned to the couch, leaning over her. Even through her clothing, Rose could feel the warmth of his breath. He nibbled at her shirt, tugging at the fabric with his teeth. From there, he moved to the base of her throat, letting his breath caress her.

Rose shivered beneath him as he continued his erotic exploration. His mouth didn't even touch her and she anxiously awaited his next move. With agonizing slowness, he lowered his lips to hers, kissing her softly. It wasn't the deep, sensuous, heart stopping kind of kiss. This one was lighter, less hard core, but even more exciting. Only his lips touched her. His hands stayed deliberately on either side of her body. She could feel his body heat, yet she didn't fondle her. It was agonizing and titillating all at once.

Wanting more contact, she pulled at his collar. His chest touched hers, but his hands remained steadfastly at her sides. Opening her mouth more, she tried to get him to kiss her more deeply, but he wouldn't, prolonging their embrace. Wiggling against him, she wanted more from him, but he refused to give it to her. Smiling, he shook his head as his lips teased hers. In retaliation, Rose relaxed her body, refusing to respond to his kisses.

She shivered as a tingle ran down her spine. J.D. made note of exactly what she liked the most, gauging his actions to thrill her.

His hot breath teased her chest, his face less than an inch from her breast. Her nipple tightened in anticipation. She pulled his knee between her legs as he continued to kiss and tease her. Riding his knee, she felt thrills throughout her entire body. Her leg pressed against his body, tantalizing him as the friction rasped across his zipper. He was hard and hot against her leg, but she barely noticed. Instead, she continued to rub against him, getting off on hot breath and friction.

Crazy as it was, she could feel an orgasm building. She wanted him inside her, driving hard to release it. Gasping, she pulled him closer, riding his leg hard and fast.

Her movements drove him to the brink of insanity. Each thrust of her hips brought her leg up hard against him. Forgetting where he was and who was in the other room, J.D. pulled her shirt up, dragging his teeth across her belly and breasts as his hands sought the zipper on her jeans. He had her pants half off, his own zipper down, ready to take her there on the couch, when Grammy's voice called from the bedroom.

© 2016 Dellani Oakes

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